Can You Imagine?
by Culfindae
Summary: She was a girl who's imagination made it possible to adapt to her new surroundings. On hiatus.
1. Little Girls Get Bigger Every Day

This is the manditory disclaimer. I am not the genius behind C.S. Lewis's work, meaning that I have no claim and no ownership over anything Narnia related save it be Sallie and her part in the Narnia plot.

* * *

As a child, Sallie loved sitting on Grandpa Digory's knee while he would tell her stories of a places she could only see in her mind. Of trees bearing magical apples, of winged horses, and of singing lions. Of talking animals, of bright and dull suns, of magic bells, and of a beautiful but evil queen named Jadis. Of a forest so calm that you could forget everything and fall asleep, of magic rings, and of pools of water leading to other worlds. Of fauns, of centaurs, of dwarves, and of giants.

She would listen with rapt attention. She could spend hours on end just listening. Grandpa Digory had a way of making the most fanciful seem like common sense – and to a child's mind, it did.

She couldn't help but to be disgusted every time he told her of 'Uncle Andrew's' disregard for anything except what he could use for his own profit, only destroying something beautiful and wonderful. Sallie would nearly bounce in excitement every time he told her of riding Fledge, the winged-horse. And she would gasp as Grandpa would retell of the magnificence of the lion Aslan.

Sallie's mother and 'Aunt' Susan disapproved of her disturbing Grandpa Digory and would insist on keeping her preoccupied with her school studies and learning to become a lady. If it were up to them, cross stitching and literature would be the activity of the day.

Not if Sallie could help it.

When ever she could, she would sneak out, sometime to see Grandpa Digory to hear more stories and sometimes to a secluded spot on Grandpa Digory's grounds and pretend she was a knight battling the wicked Queen Jadis. She could pretend she was a woodswoman or a huntress, living in solitude and content. She could be a wood spirit, charming the animals and plants. But whenever she returned, dress dirtied and hair a mess, her mother and/or 'Aunt' Susan would descend upon her like a vulture on a carcass and sternly lecture her about proper behaviors of a lady, box her ears, and drag her away to be bathed and dressed in something clean.

That was the way it was as Sallie grew.

As she came into her adolescence, a few boys caught her eye and her heart. But she was shy of the other gender and in the end her heart would be broken. And she learned to act with her head and ignore her heart. With new found sensibilities and intelligence, she even learned how to turn affection and fascination into friendship if not disinterest.

Sallie soon came to learn that with intelligence and knowledge came power, and she made it a priority to learn all that she could, though she never did leave behind her tom boy days. She attended University and studied in medicine, and though she was vastly out numbered by males, she would not allow anyone to think her inferior or vulnerable. She would not allow herself to be so.

All in all, though she grew, Sallie remained much as she was as a child; preferring pants over dresses, dreaming of fairies and dwarves, and readying herself to fight some sort of evil (whether it be of the world she knew or of her imagination). She still liked to dress up and let her imagination run wild.


	2. A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

"I still don't see why I have to go," murmured Sallie. She slouched down in her chair, entirely improper according to 'Aunt' Susan. She picked and stabbed at the dinner before her, not feeling particularly hungry after her mother confronted her and told upfront that she were to attend a dinner party that her father hosted for his business partners. Knowing her parents, she was to also be particularly cordial to the sons of the business partners.

"That's enough, Sarah," 'Aunt' Susan admonished. Sallie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her real name. She preferred the nickname of her real name (Sallie) to her birth name (Sarah). "Really! It's far past time you stopped all this nonsense, grow up, and start acting like a young woman!"

"A young woman such as yourself should be focused on marrying and raising a family, not wasting time on futile efforts such as this doctor gibberish," her mother agreed.

Now, Sallie was used to 'Aunt' Susan's argument, but what her mother said, about medicine being futile, raised her ire. Sallie didn't waste her time on anything she deemed nonproductive. And helping people medically was anything but.

"Yes, I agree that being educated is important in any young woman's life," said 'Aunt' Susan. "But you will never become a doctor. Women simply are not meant for such life styles. We are far too delicate."

Delicate! Sallie felt her body temperature rise and she bit her tongue to keep her temper under control and not do something she was sure to regret.

"But about the dinner," said her mother, "you will be there, you will dance with many of the agreeable gentlemen there, and you will be pleasant throughout the entire evening, do you hear me?"

Sallie closed her eyes and counted to five before saying, "Yes, Mum."

And that was that. Sallie knew better than to try to get out of the dinner after this conversation. _That_ would be a futile effort. The only thing left to do was when the dinner came, she would grin and bear it – then slip away at the first opportunity.

One compensation would be that the dinner would be hosted at Grandpa Digory's house, seeing it was large enough to accommodate a large party. That meant there would be at least one person amid the throng whom she could count as an ally as oppose to insurgents massing attacks on her personal life and her feet.

"Excuse me," said Sallie as she stood from the table. "Dinner was lovely." With that, she turned and left the room before either her mother or her aunt could make any remarks about her eating habits.

She headed straight upstairs to her room, locking the door behind her. Without a second hesitation, she changed into pants and a tunic of forest greens and browns that she had bought at a Renaissance fair (she claimed they were for her brother, which she didn't have), down to the boots. Seeing her in this outfit would make her mother faint in indignation.

Sallie could still pretend and imagine, and her favorite role was the woodswoman.

Donning a black cloak and hood, she slipped out of the room via the window and maple tree. There was a firewood shack near the house, which only one of the servants went into. Thankfully, Sallie was on good standing with them and never told her mother or her aunt about her stash there.

Her home bordered a wooded area in which Sallie loved to wander about. She would need this retreat to store her fortitude for the dinner tonight.


	3. There's a Party Tonight, No Use to Fight

It may be true that she did not like being forced into dresses, but Sallie had nothing against dressing up. Thankfully, this dress was every bit as imaginative as it was formal. The green, light at the puffed hem and darkening as it ascended towards the neck, went well with her bright red hair. Small glistening beads woven into the dress formed patterns that resembled vines and butterflies. With her hair and makeup arranged so, Sallie looked every bit of a wood sprite as she had imagined in her younger days.

Satisfied with her work, Sallie took a deep breath and prepared herself to face the firing squad, namely her mother and her aunt.

As she descended the stairs, she was met by her Grandpa Digory. He looked up at her and smiled, giving his approval of her apparel.

Sallie chuckled. If Grandpa Digory approved, that meant Mum and 'Aunt' Susan wouldn't. Luckily, there wasn't enough time between now and when the guest were due to arrive to change.

"What on Earth!" cried her mother.

"Really, Sarah," said 'Aunt' Susan. "As pretty as this dress is, it's hardly appropriate. This is a dinner party, not a masquerade."

Grandpa Digory came to her rescue. "I think it makes her look heavenly in a way. Almost as if she's some angelic creature descended to earth, if you ask me."

Sallie was turning almost as red as her hair at that remark. She never did count herself among the beautiful. Truthfully, it was her belief that on a good day she looked plain.

Her mother let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, it's too late for you to change. Perhaps you can tone down your usual self for this evening to balance the attention," she said, adding in a quieter tone, "You attract too much negative attention as it is."

The dinner guests came as was arranged and was seated at the table once dinner was announced ready to be served. Sallie bit her tongue to reign in her temper when she realized that most of the business men's sons were seated in her direct vicinity. She eased on a smile and pictured every one of those young men strung up in the air like a marionette and dancing on the table to her will. While it was not as bloody as her imagination tended to be when she experienced such annoyance, the picture did allow her to play the role of the ideal young woman in today's society.

As Sallie predicted, the evening was tedious, bordering on pure torture. To prevent any after dinner lectures, she held her tongue while the gentlemen discussed wide ranges of topics she yearned to adjoin. She forced a smile on her face when someone asked her a question – summarily consisting of fashion, how accomplished this or that person was, and gossip of possibly scandalous affairs. She did not eat much, seeing as the conversation directed towards her alone was enough initiate an urge to vomit. And the worst part of the night – Mr. Thomas Stane.

Mr. Thomas Stane, the son of the elderly Mr. Stane – a man of great fortune who had funded many of her father's business proposals – was a man that took delight in exhibiting his knowledge, which were in truth was quite limited. He imagined himself quite important and generous, though in truth he hardly gave a second thought to those of lower station than himself and was only regarded in his relation to his father. And in Sallie's opinion, his worst fault was undervaluing her insight and underestimating her capabilities.

"…I'm sure someone such as yourself is quite adept at the most delicate art of needle and thread", Thomas Stane droned on, as he continually spewed out comments so sugary and rich, she was considering giving up anything sweet, even chocolate. "Such a delicate and fair woman of your countenance could not create anything less than perfection in any domestic occupation. I am told you have a taste in fabrics. I flatter myself when I say I have an unparalleled eye for beauty – in all things..."

'_Oh buddy,'_ she thought as she imagined herself strangling the pompous wart, '_when speaking, you need the right audience, right tone, and right wording. And you just struck out.'_

"…I flatter myself when I say that I find myself readily able to…"

And so it went on throughout dinner. There were times when Sallie considered using her own utensils against herself, or combining the napkins to form some sort of noose. Maybe she could just stuff her own napkin down his throat to stop his uncontrollable chatter.

Sallie nearly cried – yes, actually nearly cried – in relief when her mother suggested they adjourn to the ballroom. But that relief was short lived when her mother "encouraged", another word for forced, her to dance.

With Thomas Stane.

Sallie had nearly escaped the dance entirely if it weren't for that overgrown leech. She had gone to her mother to fake a migraine when Thomas approached to both of them, asking permission to dance with 'the petite red rose'.

"Why, of course she'll dance with you!" said her mother. "I was beginning to despair, since her dance card in practically empty. And I dare say, I was also beginning to worry about the company tonight, since not one of the other young gentlemen has asked such an amiable girl as my daughter."

Her mother was bloody advertising her own daughter!

"Then perhaps I can condescend to make myself at the service of this beloved young woman for the rest of the evening," said Thomas.

'_NO!'_

But it was so. Despite Thomas's assurance that he was a superb dancer, never one so finer or enjoyed the act of dancing more, her toes suffered greatly. Constantly, he bumbled around, confusing the steps and bumping into other couples. From reels to waltzes, Sallie suffered humiliation of such a dance partner. And an hour later, she was ready to leave the party, lecture or no.

Thomas pulled her aside to the balcony, saying a woman such as herself would need fresh air to keep away a fainting spell. But once he sat her down on a stone bench, it became obvious that her health was not his reasoning for their move outside.

"My dear Ms. Kirke, I must tell you that from the very moment I spotted you in the foyer, I knew!"

'_Uh oh… I have a bad feeling about this.'_

"I knew you would be just the woman to satisfy a man of breeding such as me. You _must_ allow me to court you." Sallie was turning as red as her hair. "But before I run away with my feeling, let me tell you my reasons for seeking you out. Firstly, your father and mine are business partners, and an alliance between us would cement their partnership. Secondly, it has come to my attention that through our fathers' business relation, my father has loaned yours a good deal of money, to which is very soon required to be repaid. And since Mr. Kirke will not be gathering the required amount in proper time, it will prove to be expedient for you father to file bankruptcy. Any union between us two will provide you with security. Thirdly, I am told you are of a solitary nature, which is necessary in my case. I will not deceive you by lies; I have many mistresses, and I will keep seeing them after our marriage. I can set you up with anything you may desire and all I ask is peace and quite from you."

Sallie jumped to her feet, unwilling to hear any more and moved to strike him.

"What a splendid young chap, you are, watching over Sallie for me," said a voice behind her. Sallie let out a sigh and turned towards Grandpa Digory. "But I must steal her away for a while; my great-granddaughter has promised to dance with me."

* * *

A/N: Bonus points to anyone who can point out what story some of Thomas's speech is from.


	4. How Do You Get to Wonderland

A/N: Bonus points to _**'Sweet A.K.'**_ and _**'Jousting Elf with a Sabre'**_ for correcting guessing 'Pride and Prejudice. And I love Grandpa Digory too.

* * *

Grandpa Digory held out his arm for Sallie to take, silently asking for her to support an old man. As the neared the dance floor, Grandpa Digory said with a twinkle in his eyes, "Now that think about it, my dear, I don't think I have enough energy to dance tonight. Would you be a dear and lead me to my study?"

Sallie pursed her lips to keep a smile from forming. Trust her great-grandfather to come up with a perfect excuse to escapethe withering gazes of the female family authorities. As soon as the door to the ballroom closed, she smiled broadly and giggled. Squeezing Grandpa Digory's arm gently, she affectionately laid her head down on his shoulder.

Oh, how she loved Grandpa Digory! In all her years, he had been her constant friend andcompanion. He was the one who supported of her focus of study and decidedly non-female tendencies. He accepted and loved who she was, not who she should be.

When they reached his study, Grandpa Digory went for his pipe and tobacco. The two settled comfortably onto the couch. Sallie reached over and hugged him like a little child and rested her head again on his shoulder. She basked in the scent of her great-grandfather, letting the smoke waft over her. It was moments like these that kept her sane, that reminded her that life could be pleasant.

"So, what are you going to do about that Thomas fellow," he asked.

"I'm not going to marry him, if that's what you're asking," she answered.

"Of course you're not going to marry him. But what are you going to do about him?"

"If avoiding him doesn't work, then I guess I can tell him I don't want anything to do with him."

"And if talking doesn't work?"

"I guess I could always slug him."

"And ifviolence doesn't work?"

Sallie shrugged. "I don't know. I'll think of something when the situation arrives."

Grandpa Digory removed his pipe from his mouth, giving her a serious look. That was Sallie's cue to sit up straight, a cue that her great-grandfather had something important to tell her.

"My dearest," he said, "If the worst turns to worst, I want you –"

"SARAH LUCILE KIRKE!"

Sallie winced at her mother's bellow. She turned to Grandpa Digory for advice – he always knew what to do. And she would do as he said, even if it meant facing her mother.

He leaned in to whisper into her ear. "You know, this is a big house – very easy to get lost in."

Sallie smiled and kissed Grandpa Digory on the cheek before she took off out of the study. She heard her mother's footsteps coming up the main staircase and Sallie took off down the hall to the East stairs, which lead to the third floor east wing. She raced down the hall towards the servant's staircase, only to hear another set of footsteps. Fearing it to be her mother's, she ran down the adjacent hall. Seeing no other alternative than to find a good hiding place, Sallie ran for the first door in sight. It was locked. She tried the one next to it and the door opened.

The room wasn't much for hiding, holding only a large wardrobe which was elegantly carved in. Many of the pictures and figures on it reminded her of Grandpa Digory's stories.

This wouldn't do for a hiding place, and Sallie turned to try another room. Hearing more footsteps coming closer, Sallie froze and turned back towards the wardrobe. It might be small, but it was all she had at the moment. And she would take a cramp space to her mother any day of the week.

Being careful not to shut the door behind her (she wasn't stupid enough to lock herself in), Sallie waited with racing heart. She covered her mouth, trying to cover her hurried and strangled breathing.

She stopped breathing when the wicked witch herself burst through the door. Her mother huffed like a wolf and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her – very unladylike to Sallie's amusement.

Letting out a breath of relief with the tension, Sallie slumped back and leaned back to rest against, to find the back wasn't within reach.

Curiosity that had been encouraged by her great-grandfather rose as she stood and felt through the fur coats that lined the edges. Where was the backing? Surely the wardrobe couldn't be that large, could it?

Sallie's heart raced, this time with excitement and wonder. Was the wardrobe built into the wall? Did it lead to another room? Was this some sort of secret passage that no one besides her great-grandfather knew of?

She brushed against something that wasn't fur. She reached out and felt – pine needles?

That was improbable. Not impossible, just improbable.

Or perhaps neither.

It was worth investigating. She felt along the pine needles, finding a branch, which led to a larger artery. As she ran her fingers along the branch, she felt something wet and cold.

Snow!

Light began to illuminate her surroundings as Sallie found snow dusted branches that connect to snow frosted trees, that came down to a snow carpet. This was amazing and only one thing in her mind could explain this.

Magic.

This… this… this was wonderful! A glee seemed to spread throughout her limbs and explode throughout her being. She giggled like the child she remembered herself to once be. Any fatigue and age she once felt melted out of her and she felt such energy that she had missed feeling.

She ran with a free spirit. The woods were so beautiful. The original winter wonderland. It looked so clean, unspoiled, and yet so old and mystic.

A golden glow rose and Sallie's sprint slowed to a halt at the sight she had only seen in her imagination.

It was the lamppost of Grandpa Digory's stories. The lamppost that grew from a broken section of old lamppost from turn of the century London. The broken piece that Jadis, the witch who was accidentally brought from Charn by Grandpa Digory, broke off and used as a weapon when confronted by the British police and tried unsuccessfully to use against the singing lion Aslan. Sallie was in Narnia!

Her giggle grew to full out laughter. It was true! It was all true! And it filled her with a strange piece, a type that she might never have felt before. She knew of this place. She knew its history and its people. She knew of its magic and it's evil. This feeling… it was the feeling of home.

It was odd. She was laughing while tears began forming in her eyes. She was at peace, yet excited and energized. She wanted to sing, cry, laugh, and shout all at the same time.

Taking in her bearings, Sallie cleared her head and begun contemplating her options. If Grandpa Digory's account of his time in Narnia was true (and her very presence in this land proved that it was true without a doubt), then she could spend days, if not years, here and not have anyone on the other side of the wardrobe notice her absence. That gave her plenty of time for exploring. And she presently liked nothing more.


	5. When Hairy Met Sallie

Sorry, **_'Sweet A.K.'_**, there will be no Tumnus until later in the story - much later

And yes, I will explain why Narnia is covered with snow, though Susan is an adult, but not in this chapter. Any explanation in regard to that subject will come in about five chapters (purely guessing).

* * *

Sallie loved every season – every one of them had something uniquely good and beautiful to it. But it was safe to say that she loved winter them best. It was singularly beautiful with a pureness that was unmatched. She had always loved watching the snow fall, amazed how nature could create cluster of snowflakes. And watching the snow pile up and coat the countryside with a coconut frosting was something she could watch for hours at a time. She loved the icicles, sometimes breaking one off and putting snow on top – a homemade snow cone. And the trees became something different, somehow still and homely.

That being said, it was no wonder that she was walking with the largest smile plastered on her face.

Sallie was never good at judging the passage of hours, but it was safe to say that nearly half a day had passed. Not for the first time, was she thankful that she had chosen flats as opposed to heels; otherwise her feet would have been screaming bloody murder about now. She kept a hold of the front of her dress to help her speed. Damage to the dress wasn't as important to her as exploring this place – this beautiful, wonderful place!

Surveying the landscape, something caught her eye. Tracks in the snow.

Growing up and escaping her hide away in the woods by her house gave her ample opportunity to study the wildlife around her. One of her pastimes included studying tracks.

By the shape, size, frequency, and distance from each print, she would guess a horse. Most likely it was a lone rider, considering she had never heard of a wild horse separate from its herd. But then again, if she remembered the stories correctly, some of the animals here were intelligent and could even talk.

_'Well, intelligent or not, this horse was going somewhere at a slow speed and since the day is getting darker, would go somewhere warm,"_ she reasoned.

As she followed the tracks, she pictured various places she could end up. It could be a bluff that had a warm air pocket. It could be a cave. Heck! It could even be a full out house!

Sallie laughed at the last thought, not excluding it though. Anything was possible, after all, and she would be very much amused to see a horse-built house. The thought of seeing such gave her renewed strength.

In high spirits, she began singing a wordless tune, filling in the surrounding silence. If she had not been singing, she would have heard slight sounds that gave away the presence of another – and presence she did not see until the figure had jumped out with a sword ready to strike.

Sallie froze with a scream lodged in her throat as the figure before her blinked a couple of times in wonder before lowering his sword. Both were too amazed to care that their jaws were hanging open slightly or that they were unabashedly staring.

A centaur!

She was seeing a centaur! An actual centaur. And it was no wonder that she hadn't seen him before now. With his dark hair and coat, he could have very easily slipped into the shadows and not been seen until he wished. And with those muscles, he could have skewered her if that was his wish. His face was long and muscled, also reminding her of a horse. All in all, he was magnificent. Her form was no longer frozen in fright, but instead frozen in awe.

And when he moved to sheath his sword, the spell broke and Sallie stepped back.

"Please… do not be afraid, summer sprite," he said, showing his open hands.

Now she knew she had to be in a magical land; such a soothing and beautiful voice did not belong in the world of men.

He took a slow step forward, cautious not to give her a reason to take flight. "Please, do not be frightened. Please, summer sprite. Stay."

It then registered what he had called her.

"W-why do you call me that?"

Wolf howls cried out before he could answer. Any tenderness in this centaur's face that had been there previously was now replaced with cold hard determination as his head snapped towards the direction of the call. Without a by your leave, he pulled her onto his back and sped into a full gallop in the other direction.


	6. Cool Rider

The cold wind bit at Sallie's fingers, though she tried to position them for maximum contact with the centaur's body heat. With arms wrapped tightly around him, she could even feel his every labored breath and pounding heartbeat.

The day had grown to evening to night, and the centaur had yet to speak another word to her or slow his pace. With the dark of night blanketed around her and the trees speeding by, she would have been a fool to attempt to jump off his back. One, she couldn't see where she was going or spy any predator. Two, if jumping off such a large moving animal… er, creature… being wasn't crazy enough there was more than a good chance smacking straight into one of the passing trees. And three, how did she know that when she jumped, the centaur wouldn't just catch her and pull her onto his back again? Sallie supposed she should have every right to be frightened. And she would have been, if it weren't for the fact that despite his initial reaction to their meeting, he had been polite, tender, and showing her no ill will. If it weren't for the fact that his every action so far had been for the sake of her safety. If it weren't for the fact that he had reacted to the wolf howls with alarm.

Considering the alternative – being left to the wolves – Sallie had a sneaky suspicion she had gotten the better end of the deal.

Somehow Sallie had moved every part of her body (i.e. nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and pressing her body against his back) against his for warmth. She glanced up occasionally, wanting to know where they were going (even though she could barely see) and if there was an end in sight.

Sallie had all but given up any hope of the centaur stopping, beginning to think that he would just gallop on for the rest of her life, when she thought she saw a warm glow ahead. As the glow began to grow larger, the centaur began to speed up. The glow seemed to come from some sort of opening in a large rock, large enough to easily be a manor.

As the centaur sped through the opening, Sallie gasped at the sight before her.

What she thought was a crude opening was in actuality what appeared to be a gate, lit on both sides by torches. There were other centaurs, these ones clad in armor and armed with spears, who wore shocked expressions as Sallie sped by.

Weaving through torch-lit corridors, they eventually came to an open area – a cavern, which was filled with other centaurs of presumably both genders and various age ranges. The centaur below her slowed his gallop to a trot, giving Sallie a chance to gaze at the surroundings.

A centaur in one corner was hammering against some metal, most likely some sort of smith. A few others were weaving what might be baskets. Two smaller centaurs, probably children, stopped their play to stare at Sallie. There were a few gathered around a cart of food, who stopped their actions when Sallie and the centaur passed and stared openly at her. Apparently this was some sort of centaur community. And the more centaurs she and the centaur passed, the more she realized the amount of stares they were attracting.

Sallie attention snapped forward when the centaur below her stopped without warning. Before them was… surprise… another centaur. This one was old, with white hair on his head and his coat fading into gray. His bright blue eyes flickered from the human to the dark-haired centaur.

The dark-haired centaur turned towards Sallie and gently lowered her to the ground. Sallie stood close to her centaur, feeling more secure with him near.

"And who is this, Oreius," asked the white-haired centaur.

"A summer sprite I found near the Lantern Wastes, Satium," said the dark-haired centaur, who evidently was named Oreius.

"My name is Sallie," she spoke and turned to Oreius. "And what do you mean by 'summer sprite'?"

The white-haired centaur named Satium nodded and approached her. He lifted her chin with a finger, closely examining her face. His eyes pierced into hers, and for the life of her, she could not seem to look away. Satisfied with whatever he was looking for, he released her and looked up and around.

It was then she noticed the other centaurs that had gathered around Sallie, Satium, and Oreius.

"This is no summer sprite, my friend," Satium said to Oreius. Oreius's expression was one of shock.

"But everything about her radiates summer! Her garments are the color of summer's leaves, her hair resembles many summer flowers, and her skin isn't white like snow, but like goat's cream. How can she be anything else but a summer sprite!"

Satium smiled softly, briefly gazing at Sallie. "This, my young pupil, is even rarer and more special than a summer sprite. This is a daughter of Eve."


End file.
